


Kembali

by delicatelyglitterywriter



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4x06, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/pseuds/delicatelyglitterywriter
Summary: Kembali (Indonesian): to come back, to go back, to return.Inspired by Stranger Things.





	1. The Red Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did Fitz disappear to? Here's where.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off this post: http://pesto-aioli.tumblr.com/post/152649408088/a-demogorgon-no-biggie-inspired-by-my-little

Jemma sighed and dumped her bag on the floor in the apartment before sinking down onto the couch. Usually, she’d take the time to hang her bag up (she was _constantly_ nagging Fitz about leaving his stuff on the floor), but she was simply too tired for that today.

She’d been working relentlessly for the past ten days, trying anything and everything to find Fitz, Robbie and Coulson. But she’d come up empty. Every. Single. Time.

She couldn’t help but start to lose hope. If they were still alive, they’d have popped up somewhere by now. Right? But then she’d scold herself, reminding herself of Maveth. She’d not lost hope then, and she refused to lose it now.

She’d toyed with the idea that perhaps they’d been transported to another planet. But then, wouldn’t there be some evidence of that? A rock, or a portal, or _something_ else that would explain how they got there.

But there was nothing. Just a big energy surge, then…nothing.

She sighed again, burying her head in her hands. She was so tired of this. Tired of searching and coming up empty. Sure, there were other times when she’d not succeeded, but at least then, there’d been _evidence_ to why she hadn’t succeeded; something solid, something to tell her what she could do better next time.

This search had left her nothing.

“Oh, Fitz,” she murmured to herself. “Where are you?”

A sudden thump on the wall made her jump. She let out a shaky breath and placed a hand over her chest and smiled a little. It was probably those rowdy kids from a few doors down being silly again. She brushed it off until more thumps came. Some were long and some were short, almost as if they were trying to communicate with Morse Code.

“Why don’t you knock?” Jemma muttered crossly, getting up and striding towards the door. She flung it open to find…no one? Then where the hell was the banging coming from? It was silent out in the hallway, but when she pulled her head back in, she could hear the thumping again.

She furrowed her brow and made quick work of stripping down the wallpaper. She came face to face with a red-coloured substance that felt hard like candy drops and…Fitz?

“Fitz?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. Fitz was standing right there, only separated by a wall of red.

“Jemma!” he shouted, pressing his hand up against the red substance. “Help me! You have to get me out of here!”

“Where are you?” She didn’t care that this was one of the most illogical things she’d ever seen. She didn’t care that people would probably tell her that she was crazy. Her boyfriend, her partner, her _Fitz_ was standing right in front of her.

“The Upside Down! Come on Jemma, help me!” Jemma furrowed her brow for a second. She’d heard that term somewhere before. She glared at him when she remembered where she had heard it.

“Fitz! This is no time for your ‘Stranger Things’…nonsense!”

“It’s not nonsense, Jemma!” he protested, looking as cross as she did. “Just find a way to get me the hell out of here!”

“Okay, okay, um…” Jemma looked around, thinking as hard and fast as she could. What could break through a substance like this? Joyce had used an axe, right? So an axe was probably a good idea. Except for the fact that she didn’t own an axe.

They had a blowtorch. She could try to burn through it. But that would pose an extremely high fire risk. Besides, there was no telling how much heat had to be applied before it started burning. She’d have to test it, but not here. So she crossed that option off.

She scanned the apartment for something, _anything_ , she might be able to use. Her gaze landed on their stake knives. That _could_ work, if she was able to swing hard enough.

“Jemma, it’s coming!” Fitz sounded panicked. She pressed her hand against the red wall at the same level as his.

“What’s coming?”

“The Demogorgon!”

“You mean the flower-headed monster? That’s there, too?”

“Yes!” He sounded afraid now. Not panicked, not scared, but afraid. He sounded as if he were about to die if something didn’t happen. “Come on, Jemma! Please get me out of here before I’m ripped to pieces!”

Jemma opened her mouth to correct him on what the monster did (assuming that Stranger Things had been correct in their theory, of course), but a low growl from the other side of the red wall that made her heart jump to her throat cut her off. Judging by Fitz’s fear and the fact that she was able to _hear_ the growl, she estimated there was no more than thirty seconds between Fitz and it.

“There’s no time, Fitz! Go, hide! I promise I’ll get you out, I promise! Just stay alive for me.”

Fitz nodded, and then turned and ran, disappearing from sight as the red substance started to be covered by the plaster of the apartment wall. Jemma watched helplessly as her only link to Fitz vanished. She leaned her head sadly against the plaster wall. She hoped Fitz would be okay.

Then the reality suddenly hit her, causing her to pull back. Fitz was alive. Fitz was alive.  Which meant that Coulson and Robbie were most likely alive, too. A tiny smile found its way to her  face, and a fresh feeling of hope and determination to her heart.

She was going to get her boys back.


	2. The Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Fitz outran the Demogorgon

The Upside Down was dark, and cold, and had icky goopy stuff that resembled cobwebs everywhere. Fitz found it disgusting but had forced himself to adapt very quickly. Adjust and adapt – it was the only way to survive until Jemma could rescue them.

Well, that and outrun the Demogorgon.

Speaking of, he had to find a way to shake this thing. He ducked behind a bin in the alleyway to catch his breath for a second and forced himself to think.

_Come on, Fitz! You’ve survived being trapped at the bottom of the ocean, and going through the Monolith twice. You can find a way to outrun this beast._

He thought back to Stranger Things. It’d been two and a bit months since he’d seen it, but it was still pretty fresh in his mind.

“Demogorgon, blood,” he muttered, shaking his hand in deep thought. He had to somehow use that against the monster. But if he used his own blood then the creature would keep following him and it’d be even harder to shake it. He needed something else.  

Fitz looked up and around, his gaze landing on the door leading into the bulding he was next to. His eyes went wide and he smiled as he realised where he was.

“Butcher.” Excellent. He could use this.

He got up and darted inside just as the shadow of the monster made the dark alley even darker. Thankfully for Fitz, all the meat was still there. He just had to find some of the stuff that hadn’t been drained yet. He wasn’t sure if it was done here or elsewhere, but he at least had to try.

He flung open one cabinet after the other, but only found meat ready to be sold. But he hit a jackpot as he opened the last freezer (of _course_ it was the last one; it was _always_ the last one). He hurriedly pulled out his pocket knife and carefully plunged it into the dead animal. He pulled the blade downwards, taking care not to spill any blood on himself.

He kept going until he heard the Demogorgon’s roar. He wiped his knife against the skin of the meat and tucked it back into his pocket before ducking out and hiding behind the counter. He held his breath as the footsteps came closer and closer, and then passed right by him.

Then he ran. He ran as fast as he could.

He didn’t stop until he reached the base, where Coulson and Robbie were gathering up supplies and weapons.

“Fitz! There you are!” Coulson greeted him as he burst in the door. “We were starting to get worried. How’d it go with Jemma?”

Fitz nodded, doubling over and placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Coulson and Robbie waited until he had enough breath to speak.

“Yeah, she was shocked. She promised to find a way to get us back, right before I was chased away by the Demogorgon.”

“Well, we’re glad you’re back safe,” Robbie said, with a slight nod. Fitz nodded back. Robbie had kind of grown on him, if Fitz was honest. He quite appreciated his gruff affection. It kind of reminded him of his grandfather. Not that he thought of Robbie as his grandfather. That was just weird.

Coulson passed Fitz a bottle of water, which he eagerly downed. That was one thing Fitz appreciated in the Upside Down – everything was the same (except for the fact that it was dark and cold), including the food and drink stored there by people on the other side.

“So, how’d you get away from that thing?” Coulson asked, sitting down on the couch. Leave it to Coulson to be perfectly chill about a life-or-death situation. But Fitz still couldn’t help but smile; Coulson’s optimism made them all feel a bit better.

“It’s really quite simple, sir. All you need is a bit of blood.”


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where the lights blink

Jemma felt quite silly putting up Christmas lights the way she was. They were draped against her bedroom wall in nice, neat rows. She hoped the landlord wouldn’t be cross at her for driving nails into the wall. She grimaced. He’d definitely be angry. She’d have to get Mack to help her fix it up after she’d gotten Fitz back.

Then came the writing the letters on the wall. She cringed. Walls were _not_ for writing on, and she _hated_ the idea of having to.

Jemma now felt especially silly. She was willing to tear a hole in the universe to get him back, but she couldn’t bring herself to write on a wall? This was so stupid. But try as she might, she just _couldn’t_ talk herself into doing it.

She slid off her bed and began pacing.

“Come on, Jemma. There’s got to be an alternative ways of putting letters there.”

She was sure she was going to wear a hole in the carpet with all her pacing. She plopped down on her bed and buried her head in her hands for a few seconds before looking up around, hoping to find some sort of inspiration.

Her gaze landed on a collage that she and Fitz had put together years ago at the Academy. Her eyes widened, the answer hitting her like a block of concrete.

“Cut outs!” She leapt off the bed and ran to get her coat, and then hurried out the door.

* * *

 

 “No, Robbie! We are _not_ using your flaming skull to burn that thing!”

“It’s the best weapon we have!” Robbie argued back. “I could disintegrate it in a matter of seconds!”

“We don’t even know if it’d work! And what if it’s the only thing keeping the portal between worlds open?”

“We won’t know unless we try!”

“Do you really want to risk being trapped here forever?” Fitz shouted, slamming his hand down on the table. He’d had enough of this. They couldn’t just act impulsively. They had to consider the consequences.

“Alright, enough!” Coulson’s voice cut through their argument like a knife through butter. The two younger men turned and looked at him. “I get it, Robbie. I want the monster dead as much as you do, but Fitz is right. We can’t rush into this without considering the consequences. You should know that better than anyone.”

Robbie’s jaw tightened. That was _one time_ , and he’d had no time to consider the consequences of his decision. He hated how he knew that Coulson and Fitz were right, but still he relented.

“Fine. Then what do you propose we do?”

“Go back to Fitzsimmons’ apartment. See if Simmons has made any progress.”

Fitz and Robbie nodded. That was a good idea. Quietly, and not looking at each other, they grabbed their things and followed Coulson out the door.

* * *

 

Jemma had bought a pad of coloured paper and a set of large alphabet stencils. When she’d gotten back to her place, it’d taken her about an hour to trace out all the letters and then cut them out, and a further five minutes to stick them all up in alignment with the lights.

She flopped backwards onto the bed with a sigh after she’d stuck the last of them. She hoped all her hard work was worth it. She didn’t have to wait long, because thirty seconds later, the lights started blinking.

* * *

 

Fitz chuckled to himself when he saw the cut out letters on the wall. Jemma’s allergy to certain things, such as writing on walls, was one of the many reasons he’d fallen for her. He climbed onto the bed beside Jemma and reached for the lights when he saw Robbie come up on the other side.

They both clicked a light at the same time. Fitz glared at him.

“What’re you doing?”

“Communicating.”

“Hey! She’s _my_ girlfriend! _I’ll_ do the communicating!” Robbie’s fist curled around, but Coulson again intervened.

“Honestly, is this the only thing you two are going to do?” He sounded annoyed at the both of them. “Robbie, let Fitz do it.”

Robbie understood that Coulson would be closer to Fitz than him due to the amount of time they’d spent together, but he still couldn’t help but resent the fact that Coulson had sided with Fitz. _Twice_. Still, he again relented, reminding himself this was all for Gabe’s sake.

Fitz reached up again and clicked two lights. H-I. Beside him, he saw Jemma smile.

“Hey, Fitz.”

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Fitz.”

She was overjoyed that it had worked. She was talking with Fitz, even though she couldn’t see him. It felt…strangely nice. When the lights didn’t blink again, she figured it was her turn to speak.

“Oh, Fitz. I miss you. I wish I knew how to get you back.” The lights blinked again.

Y…O..U…D…O

“But I don’t, Fitz! I haven’t the foggiest idea of where to start! Have you any suggestions?” The lights blinked again.

R…U…N

Jemma’s heart leapt to her throat. Wasn’t that the same thing Will had told his mother before…oh shit. The outer wall started protruding towards her as the lights began blinking as fast as her heart was hammering in her chest.

She tumbled off the bed, grabbed her coat and ran. She didn’t look back.


	4. May's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma needs a place to stay, and Robbie and Ftiz just cannot seem to stop fighting!

Jemma stumbled out of the building, squinting as the sun hit her eyes, almost temporarily blinding her. She spun around and took a few steps backwards, examining the outside of the building for any signs of the monster. She saw none, but she didn’t want to go back into her apartment; not after what had just happened.

She looked around. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but what she found is that the sun was dipping low in the sky. It’d be night soon. She glanced back at the building. She quickly decided there was no way in hell she was spending the night inside her apartment.

But where could she go?

In circumstances like this, she’d usually call Coulson, but he was stuck with Fitz in the Upside Down. The next on her list was Daisy, but things had changed since she’d last needed a place to stay, and she didn’t want to burden her friend like that. Bobbi and/or Hunter were next, but after what had happened almost a year ago that was a no-go.

The only two left were Mack and May.

Jemma pursed her lips. Who did she call? She didn’t feel awfully close to either of them. But she had to call one of them; she hadn’t even grabbed her purse on the way out, so she couldn’t just drive to the nearest hotel. And she certainly did _not_ want to spend a night on the streets.

She eventually decided on May and pressed the call button before she could change her mind.

“Simmons?” May answered. “Why are you calling me at eight in the evening?”

“I need a place to stay,” Jemma admitted, hanging her head. It felt very humbling to admit she needed to be taken in. “Just for tonight.”

“Why can’t you stay at your place?” Jemma laughed nervously.

“Erm…well…you see,” more nervous laughter, “it’s kind of a long story.”

“Fine. You can tell me when you get here.” May hung up before Jemma could say anything else. Jemma breathed out a sigh of relief. She was so very glad May wasn’t a person to ask too many questions.

* * *

 

Fitz, Robbie and Coulson managed to outrun the Demogorgon and were hunkered down in Coulson’s office, cooling off. Robbie was standing a little way off, still resentful of Coulson siding with Fitz. The two other men ignored him, fearing that he might just burst into flame.

Instead, they talked quietly discussed ways that they could help Jemma find them faster and perhaps even get out by themselves.

“We need compasses.”

“Come again?”

“The kids on the show, Coulson!” Fitz was getting exasperated. He just needed to get out. “They used compasses to find the portal, and we can, too!”

“Don’t we need the sun for that?”

“Have you never used a compass?” Fitz snapped, before taking a deep breath and counting to ten. He continued in a gentler tone. “We just have to follow it north until we find the portal.”

“Hmm. Not a bad idea.” Coulson had already rounded his desk and begun digging through his desk for a compass.

“It’s stupid is what it is.”

Both stopped and turned to Robbie. He turned to face them. To say he looked annoyed would be an understatement. Fitz’s anger returned as quickly as it had dissipated.

“Well, I don’t see you making any suggestions!”

“I _did_ suggest something, but you both turned it down!” Robbie growled, taking a few steps towards them.

“Because it’s too risky!” Fitz shouted back. Any energy spent on calming himself now proved futile.

“Gotta take risks to survive!” Robbie shot back, getting right up into Fitz’s face. Fitz pushed him away.

“Not if it means we’re trapped in this bloody place forever!”

“We already could be trapped forever!” The fire in Robbie’s eyes unsettled Coulson, but Fitz was too angry to care. He and Robbie stared each other down for a minute before Robbie relented, turned and stormed from the office, slamming the door behind him. Fitz whirled around and punched the wall behind him, recoiling in pain. It did little to ease his anger, and he plopped down in the chair, fuming.

“What is his _problem_?”

* * *

 

“Thanks for letting me come over, May.”

“Just tell me what’s going on.” Jemma sipped the cup of tea that May had kindly made her. She dropped her gaze to her lap as May sat down opposite her.

“Well,” Jemma said, putting the cup down. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me. My reason is pretty crazy.”

“Try me.” Something in May’s tone caused her to look up. May’s eyes were kind and non-judgemental, and Jemma suddenly felt more confident sharing with her. She looked back down momentarily, trying to find the right words. Then she resumed looking at May.

“Have you seen ‘Stranger Things?” May nodded. “Well, it’s kind of like that. See, when I got home, I heard this knocking on the wall, and it turns out it was Fitz! He was on the other side of this hard red substance that kind of reminded me of boiled raspberry lollies. Anyway, he mentioned being in the ‘Upside Down’, or a place incredibly similar to it. And then he had to run away because the flower-headed monster was chasing him.”

“The Demogorgon?”

“Yes. Anyway, after that, I put up some lights so I could communicate with Fitz, like Joyce did for Will. And then it came time to write on the wall, but I couldn’t do it, because walls aren’t for writing on and so I-”

“Simmons. Only relevant points, please.” Jemma grinned at May sheepishly and cleared her throat.

“Anyway, I was talking to Fitz through the lights, and then they started blinking and the wall started coming out towards me! So, of course, I ran and that’s when I called you.”

May nodded slowly, soaking it all in. Jemma tried not to wring her hands. Would May believe her? Or would she call her crazy and send her back? She really hoped it wasn’t the latter. After a moment, May stood up and motioned to the tea.

“You done?” Jemma nodded and watched as May took the nearly empty cup and put it in the sink. “You know where the guest room is.”

Jemma blinked in surprise. “You believe me?”

May let out a chuckle. “Stranger things have happened.”

Even though she knew what May meant, Jemma couldn’t help but notice her exact words and tease the older woman about it.

“I believe you mean to use the word ‘has’; Stranger Things _has_ happened. You know that ‘has’ is used to discuss nouns and singular-” Jemma ducked as a wash cloth flew at her head.

“Go to bed, Simmons.” May sounded annoyed, but Jemma could hear the amusement in her voice. She smirked to herself, standing up.

“Yes, ma’am.”


	5. Getting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz, Coulson and Robbie have to make a compass, and Jemma discovers something that changes the whole course of their rescue mission

“What do you _mean_ we don’t have a compass?”

“I mean, Fitz, that SHIELD doesn’t have any compasses,” Coulson said with an apologetic look.

Fitz could hardly believe what he was hearing. He ran a hand through his hair. SHIELD, an organisation who had possession of some of the most advanced weapons _in the world_ somehow managed to not have possession of a simple _compass_. Bloody. Hell.

“Fine. We’ll make one, then,” Fitz decided. Coulson nodded.

“What do we need?”

“Cork, sewing needle, pliers, scissors, magnet, water,” Fitz listed, ticking the items off on his fingers. Coulson nodded.

“Now those, SHIELD does have.”

* * *

 

Jemma awoke to the pleasant smell of…what kind of pancakes were those? Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she’d not had a proper meal since lunchtime yesterday. She pulled herself up and padded down the stairs, licking her lips as she approached the kitchen.

When she entered, May was standing over the stove with her back turned. There were two plates of pancakes on the bench. Jemma slid into a chair at the bench and pulled a plate towards her.

“Morning, Simmons.”

“Good morning, May,” she answered with a smile. “What kind of pancakes are these?”

“Cong you bing,” May answered. “Better known as Scallion pancakes. Very popular in China.”

Jemma let out a hum as she popped a piece into her mouth. She let out a satisfied moan as she swallowed.  These were undoubtedly some of the best pancakes she’d ever tasted. She made a mental note to get the recipe from May after they’d gotten the boys back.

She looked up from shovelling (delicately, of course) pancakes into her mouth when Mack emerged from the hallway.

“Simmons.”

She hummed a small greeting, not wanting to stop and chat with him; the food was way too good. Mack pulled up a plate of pancakes for himself and began eating, too. May joined them shortly afterwards, and the three ate in silence. May was the first one to break the silence as she collected up their dishes.

“So, Simmons, what’s first?”

“Supplies,” Jemma said, taking a sip of her drink. “If we’re going to get them back, we’re going to need supplies.”

“What exactly do we need?” Mack asked.

“Let’s see…we’ll need compasses, hazmat suits, oxygen tanks and masks, medical supplies, weapons including an axe, electric torches, a blowtorch, water, a few nutritious snacks, electronics…” Jemma ticked the items off on her fingers, trailing off when she ran out of items to list.

“And anything else that could be useful,” Mack suggested. Jemma nodded, grateful to him for finishing her sentence for her.

“Well, come on,” May said, already heading for the door. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

* * *

 

“What can I do?”

Fitz glanced up from rubbing the needle against the magnet, “Write N, S, W, E on that cork. Make _sure_ they are _ninety_ degrees apart, or it could mess everything up.”

“Quit being such a tight ass,” Robbie grumbled from the corner he was sitting in. Fitz’s head shot up.

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry for trying to find a way out of here,” he snapped before returning to the needle. Robbie opened his mouth to retort, when Coulson cut in.

“That is _enough_! Both of you. Stop arguing and just _work together_ for once.” He glared at both of them, causing them to fall into silence and avoid his gaze. He got back to writing the letters on the cork.

Soon, Fitz and Coulson were done with their respective tasks. Fitz handed Coulson the scissors.

“Cut that down to about a quarter inch,” Fitz instructed, before turning to Robbie. “Robbie, water.”

Robbie grumbled as he left the room to get water. He returned a while later, after Coulson had struggled his way through the cork. He put the bowl of water down on the desk with more force than necessary, causing a few drops to spill over the edge. He looked at Fitz.

“Happy?”

“No! You do _not_ slam that down on the desk! It’s going to take at _least_ four minutes to settle now, four minutes that _we_ could have used to find the gate!”

“There’s no pleasing you, is there?” Robbie glared at him before slinking back to his corner. Fitz took a breath to say something else, but Coulson’s stern voice cut him off.

“Fitz.” The engineer bit his tongue and instead focused on pushing the needle through the cork with the pliers. As soon as he had, he waited for the water to settle before putting it in gently. The needle swung around before coming to a stop, pointing towards the back of the SHIELD base.

“Got it!” he called, picking the compass out of the water. “Come on!”

“Where is it?” Robbie asked, getting up. Of _course_ he was interested now that they were getting out.

“Behind the base,” Fitz informed them. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, the three of them headed for the back of the base.

* * *

 

It was twenty four minutes past nine when Jemma walked past Director Mace’s office with her tactical pack. She’d collected up the hazmat suits, compasses and the blowtorch, and was on her way to meet the others, who had the other supplies.

She, Mack and May had engaged in a lengthy discussion about everyone collecting one of each item in case something went wrong (say, if someone was caught). But then they’d decided that it was inefficient, and it’d be easier for each person to grab a bunch of items, meet up, and _then_ separate the items between them for if something went wrong.

As she walked past the office, she overheard Mace say something that caused her to stop in her tracks.

“Hart, have you managed to track down the Demogorgon yet?”

The Demogorgon? How did he know about that? Unless he was…oh dear.

Jemma scolded herself for jumping to such a conclusion and ducked down so that she could be hidden, but still listen to the conversation at the same time.

“No, sir. It’s an incredibly intelligent monster, but I’m sure-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Hart!” Jemma flinched at his raised voice, and opened her bag, pulling the iPad out. “I _want_ you to find that monster before people find out. Do you have _any_ idea what would happen if the public, let alone other agents, found out about this?”

“Sir, perhaps if you hadn’t started the program-”

“Enough, Jefferson!” Mace bellowed. “The program _had_ to be started, and you know it. The problem lies with you lot. If you hadn’t been so _reckless_ , we could have avoided all the time and energy we’ve wasted, trying to get our agents back.”

“Oh my god,” Jemma whispered in shock. _Mace_ was behind this? Her blood ran cold. She decided she’d heard enough.

It was time to get the hell out of there.


	6. Worst Case Scenario

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the worst that can happen to Jemma? Apparently the worst case scenario just got worse - for both her AND the boys stuck in the Upside Down.

**Previously:**

_“Oh my god,” Jemma whispered in shock. Mace was behind this? Her blood ran cold. She decided she’d heard enough._

_It was time to get the hell out of there._

* * *

 

Jemma shuffled backwards until she was just out of sight of the office and stood up. She then dropped her iPad and let out a frustrated sigh. Mace and the other agents peeked out to see what was going on as Jemma bent down to pick it up.

“Good morning, Simmons,” Mace greeted. Jemma hated the pleasant smile on his face, but she kept her emotions under control and instead plastered on a cheerful grin.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Drop your iPad?” She could sense his suspicion. After all, she _rarely_ dropped things, especially not valuable items. She changed her cheerful grin to a sheepish smile.

“I suppose it’s all the work I’m putting into finding Agents Coulson, Fitz and Robbie Reyes,” she excused, not missing the way Mace’s muscles tensed. “I’m feeling tired and clumsy!”

She and Mace stared each other down for a moment, Jemma doing her best acting work. She could tell almost instantly that he knew that she knew. Still, she refused to give herself away; she knew Mace would do that for her once he’d finished staring.

“Grab her.”

Jemma stepped back as the agents stepped forward. She held her breath, all her muscles tensed. Then one of them grabbed her by the arm. She reacted. She yanked her arm back and twirled around at the same time, forcing him to let go.

She then turned and took off running.

* * *

 

“What?”

“What’s wrong, Fitz?” Coulson asked, peering over Fitz’s shoulder at the water bowl.

“Back in the office, the compass pointed in this direction, but now it’s pointing the opposite direction!”

“That’s weird,” Coulson agreed. “What does it mean?”

“Means the gate is _inside_ the base,” Fitz murmured, looking up. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. If it were inside the base… “Someone in SHIELD is behind the creation of the gate.”

“Any idea who?”

“Well, we’re going to have to get back through to find out.” Fitz turned to Robbie, who was kicking rocks with his foot. It was strange, really. The Latino hadn’t said a word since they’d left the office; he’d not picked a fight.

“What’re you looking at?” Robbie snarled when he caught Fitz looking. Fitz was a bit taken aback. He was just _looking_.

“And what’s wrong with simply looking?” he shot back.

“Do you want something or not?” Robbie snapped. Fitz scowled at him.

“What’s your problem, Robbie?” Fitz fumed, desperately trying to calm down. Robbie stopped shifting aimlessly and looked Fitz dead in the eye.

“My problem are people like you,” he said in a dangerously low tone. “People who think people like me are a threat that need to be locked up and then either trained or killed. People who think that they’re better because they have a ‘morally superior’ code they live by.”

“That is _not_ what SHIELD is about, and you _know_ it,” Fitz growled, jabbing Robbie’s chest with his pointer finger. “So don’t you _dare_ play that card with me!”

He saw the fire light up in Robbie’s eyes, but he was too angry to care. He was ready to beat Robbie up and leave him for the Demogorgon to eat. It was then that a fist connected with his chin, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

He tasted blood in his mouth and he looked back at Robbie, his blood boiling. But before he could react, Coulson stepped in.

“Enough! What has gotten into the two of you?” When neither responded, Coulson sighed. “Inside. Both of you. Now.”

He had used his no-nonsense voice, so the two had no choice but to trudge back inside, deliberately bumping shoulders with each other on their way through the door.

* * *

 

This felt oddly like the time her cover had been blown in Hydra a few years back. Jemma smiled fondly at the memory of Bobbi coming to her rescue at that time. She wished Bobbi were here to help save her now.

But unfortunately, that was not the case.

She was alone, and she could hear the base going into lockdown mode. All around her, employees shared concerned glances and gave her odd looks. Jemma knew that they were smart enough to connect the dots, and that they wouldn’t hesitate to turn her in to save their own skins.

It was odd really – the very same people who rather die than betray their fellow agents to the enemy would betray each other to the man in charge in a heartbeat. It was an oxymoron that Jemma found endlessly fascinating.

But she couldn’t think about that. She had to find a place to hide.

The first place she thought of was her bunk, but that was too obvious. Then she thought of the boiler room. After the whole incident with the Ugly Inhumans nearly seven months ago, Coulson had installed an emergency exit in there for if an emergency came up. Only he and his team knew about it.

She rounded the corner to head in that direction, but saw some of Mace’s minions heading towards her. Around the long way then, she decided. Jemma turned on her heel and ran the other way, ducking into the conference room and then out the other side.

The boiler room was just around the corner and halfway down the hallway; she just had to outrun Mace’s agents.

She rounded the corner, only to find that some of the agents had beaten her there. She turned again to run down the other way, but there were also agents coming from that direction. She was trapped.

So she did the only thing she could think to do – she slipped through the nearest door, which just happened to lead down to the basement. She slammed it behind her, locking it and jamming a plank under the doorknob (which was conveniently just lying around, much to Jemma’s relief).

She let out a sigh of relief and took a step backwards, still looking at the door. It’d take them at least five minutes for them to break through; five minutes she could use to figure out how to get out of this situation. Five minutes of safety.

“Hello again, Simmons.”

Jemma froze and slowly turned around, gasping softly. The room was split by a glass pane, separating the portal from the rest of the room. Her heart hammered in her chest, not helped by the fact that Mace had his head agents standing on either side of him and a bunch of other agents standing behind him, all with their guns drawn. Jemma swallowed hard and raised her hands in surrender.

“Bag,” Mace instructed. Jemma shrugged it off and let it drop to the ground unceremoniously. He nodded to the agents on either side of him. They lowered their guns, then moved forward and grabbed Jemma, yanking her arms behind her back and zip-tying them. She struggled feebly against them, wary of the guns pointed at her.

She was halted before the yellow line that separated the cell from the rest of the basement. She drew in a short breath when she felt Mace lean in and speak lowly in her ear.

“Sorry, Simmons. You should have kept your head down and minded your own business.”

With that, she was thrown down over the line. She landed with a grunt and the cell was locked. She pushed herself up onto her knees, looking around for something to help her escape. All that stared back at her were the four grey walls of the cell and a dull, grey bed. She closed her eyes as she dropped her head and sighed.

She was helpless until either May or Mack figured out she was in trouble.

* * *

 

Mack and May had slipped away to May’s bunk when lockdown began. They knew it could mean either one of two things:  the base was contaminated or Jemma had been caught. They were placing their money on the latter. The fifteen minutes they spent waiting for Jemma after lockdown began all but confirmed their suspicions.

“We still going on with this?” Mack asked, finishing up the exchange of supplies with May.

May nodded, “It’s what Simmons would want.”

Mack hummed in agreement, “And what of getting Simmons back?”

“Worst case scenario, they’ll put her on suspension for taking those items,” May said with a shrug. “And perhaps a few counselling sessions.”

Mack chuckled at the latter half of the statement. What they were doing _did_ sound pretty crazy, and May’s reassurance that it was nothing except crazy lifted a huge weight off his chest. He zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“It’s open!” May called. The door opened, revealing Agent Piper.

“Agent May, I hate to be a bother, but I need you to sign off on this gym equipment.”

“That’s Simmons’ job to sign off,” May said pulling her compass out of her bag.

“I know, ma-May,” the younger agent babbled. “But I can’t find her.”

May’s eyebrows shot up and she exchanged a look with Mack. Even if she _had_ been suspended, she couldn’t have left as quickly as that. Mack turned away as May refocused her attention on Piper. Without a word, she held out a hand for the iPad and then signed it. She then shooed the younger agent out with her hand.

Mack waited until the door was closed before he spoke.

“Looks like our worst case scenario has just gotten worse.”


	7. A Team That Trusts...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie and Fitz are finally starting to get along, May and Mack are finally starting to figure things out, and Jemma and the Director are fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning:** : torture scene. To skip, stop reading at the first xxxxx line, and commence reading again at the second xxxx line

Robbie and Fitz sat beside each other on the couch, arms crossed, gaze downcast as Coulson lectured them in only a way Coulson could. Both couldn’t help but feel like they were being told off by their dad.

“You two need to put aside your differences and work together!” Coulson finished, sitting down opposite them. Neither one of them looked up. “Fighting will only bring us down!”

“You’re right,” Robbie admitted, catching Fitz by surprise. That had to be the _first_ time he’d admitted that he wasn’t in the right. “After all, a team that trusts is a team that triumphs.”

Fitz snorted. That was the best impression of Mace he’d ever heard. He cast a glance sideways and caught Robbie’s eye. Both shook with silent laughter. Across from them, Coulson chuckled and shook his head, getting up.

“See? This is much better already.”

The younger men looked up at him, smiles on their faces for the first time since they’d arrived here. Coulson was relieved that they weren’t fighting for once, and ecstatic that the reason was because they were too busy laughing together.

“Come on,” Coulson said. “We’ve got a gate to find.”

* * *

 

Mack and May had left their bags in May’s bunker. They had decided they would investigate first, and then come back and get their backpacks. They followed their compasses through the hallways, Mack offering a few of the agents going around their daily business a friendly smile, including the director.

Soon, they found themselves in front of the basement door. They both cast a look over their shoulders and quietly opened the door, unsure of what lay on the other side. They slipped in and closed the door behind them. Mack gaped at the sight of the portal on the other side of the glass.

“No way,” he whispered. It took a matter of seconds for the two of them to put the pieces together, only unable to figure out who was in charge of it, although they had their suspicions.

The room was void of all people, exempt of Jemma, who they noticed as the tiptoed down the stairs. She was on her knees with her head bowed, almost as if she were praying. May put her hand on Mack’s when he reached over to the pad to release Jemma and shook her head. If they busted Jemma out, then they were all at risk. It was better to leave Jemma there for the time being. Mack, being able to read what May communicated to him through her facial expressions, reluctantly moved his hand away.

It was then that Jemma looked up, and May held up a finger to her mouth, indicating for Jemma to be quiet and not give them away. Jemma managed to catch May’s message in time and was able to keep herself from reacting. Instead, May watched her get up and move back until she was sitting on the bed. Jemma then looked at May again, her eyes silently pleading. May nodded, understanding all the requests held in the one look.

She and Mack then moved quietly towards the control board, leaving Jemma alone. The control board’s buttons were all quite clearly labelled, and Mack whipped out his phone, taking a few photos, while May examined it with her eyes. Both agents’ heads shot up as the door began to open. May gave Mack a nudge and then quickly followed him into the hiding spot under the stairs.

* * *

 

With Fitz patched up, the three of them continued to search for the gate. They had narrowed it down to one hallway, and were trying to find the right door. Fitz followed the compass with his eyes, eventually landing on the door to the basement.

“It’s in the basement. Come on.”

Fitz didn’t know whether to feel excited or nervous. He had no idea what lay beyond the door, except the gate. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped through. He gaped when he saw the gate. It was massive! It kind of reminded him of a duodenum.

“Woah,” he breathed.

“You can say that again,” Coulson murmured beside him, wandering deeper into the basement, followed by Robbie. Fitz stayed where he was, looking around and taking it all in. His gaze quickly landed on Jemma. She looked the same way she had when he’d seen her last – a non-tangible glowing figure. He smiled when he saw her and bounded down the steps towards her.

“Jemma!”

But as he approached, he could see her sitting differently than before. Before, she had sat calmly in an almost contented state. Now, while she did sit calmly, she looked sad, and even a bit scared. He slowed his pace, furrowing his brow. Wasn’t that the cell she was in? Bumping up against an invisible wall confirmed this. He placed his hands against the barrier, peering at her best he could.

Wait, were her hands tied? What was going on? Fitz’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. This was not at all good. He wanted to call out to her, bang on the wall, throw up and then throw a fit, but he could bring himself to do none of these things as he suddenly realised how exhausted he was.

He could only sink to his knees in despair, “Jemma, no.”

Fitz barely registered a strong pair of hands gently laying him down on something soft and covering him with something warmish. His eyelids were already drooping and he couldn’t hold back his yawn; despite his best efforts, he was dozing off.

“Jemma,” he croaked weakly, but was shushed.

“Sleep,” Robbie’s voice instructed, before the person who had laid him down stepped back. So Fitz did what the voice commanded, and he slept.

* * *

 

Jemma looked up as the door opened and agents Hart and Jefferson marched down the stairs. They were clearly on a mission and Jemma sighed. Whatever was coming next couldn’t be good. She didn’t move as Jefferson opened her cell or when they both entered.

“Stand up,” Hart ordered. Jemma raised her eyes to his.

“No.” She’d taken on an alien planet and Hydra, twice, and had survived just fine. There was no way in hell she was bending to an evil director’s will. Hart just smirked at her and clicked his fingers. Jefferson acted immediately (like an obedient little puppy dog, Jemma thought) and hauled Jemma to her feet before forcing Jemma along behind Hart.

* * *

 

Mack and May waited until the door had been closed again before peeking out from their hiding place. When Mack whispered that it was clear, both emerged, but kept their heads low. May took out her phone and began dialling.

“Who you calling?”

“Piper,” May said softly, surprising Mack.

“Piper? How do you have her number?” May waved a hand, signalling for him to shut up and then she began speaking to the woman on the other end.

“Piper, I need a favour…power down the cameras…no! No questions…and Piper, the order didn’t come from me…’ma’am’? What’ve we said about that...thank you…bye.”

Mack let out a breathy laugh once May hung up. That was the most…interesting phone conversation he’d ever heard, to say the least. May turned and glared at him when she saw his smirk.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” she ordered, and Mack had to bite the inside of his cheek to do so.

“So, what now?” Mack wondered once his lips were straight again.

“We get the hell out of here,” May said. “It’ll only be a matter of time before whoever’s behind this connects us with Simmons and then they’ll come looking for us. Best to get a head start.”

With that, May silently crept up and out of the basement with Mack on her heels. They scurried down the hallway towards the boiler room, offering a few nods to the agents they passed. When they arrived, they shut the door behind them, and quickly snuck out of the base through Coulson’s secret passage.

* * *

 

Jemma was thrown down (again) when they reached the containment cell. She was on her feet again in an instant. She was not some beanbag to be thrown about, especially not by her fellow agents. Well, she couldn’t exactly call them ‘fellow’ agents now, she thought. She glared daggers at them as Hart began his prowl around her in the same way a lion circles its helpless prey.

“You know, I’ve always admired you, Simmons,” he drawled as he prowled. “So smart, so resourceful, so confident; you _always_ know what to do. Which is why I’m sure you know exactly what to do right now.”

“Please just shut up,” Jemma groaned. She was so tired of people kidnapping her and then going off on big speeches as if they were somehow superior to her. She suddenly jumped slightly when she felt a gentle finger tracing along the side to the back of her neck, mocking her.

“As soon as you tell me who you’re working with,” Hart bargained, smugness lacing his every word. His tone and touch made Jemma’s skin crawl. It disgusted her to think that they would believe that she’d sell out so easily.

“Go to hell,” she snapped. “Both of you.”

“Have it your way, then,” he sighed. Then he grabbed Jemma’s arms and pushed downwards so that she was forced harshly to her knees. She grit her teeth and tried to stand again, but was stopped by Hart’s firm hand on her shoulder, holding her down.

“Jefferson.” The two of them watched as Jefferson picked up a small case and placed it on the bed and opened it. Jemma’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach as he picked up a scalpel. This felt eerily similar to the time Hydra had grabbed her and Fitz.

Fitz. The reason she was doing all this. Being reminded of him gave her a renewed sense of determination. She looked at Jefferson in the eye, refusing to be put off.

_Do your worst_

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

She tried not to flinch as Jefferson closed the distance, bent down and rested the scalpel against the edge of her left tragus. Jemma held her breath and closed her eyes as he slowly dragged the blade. It hurt, but not enough for her to scream, yet.

The next cut came just under her right collarbone. This time, she screamed. She wasn’t built like May, or Mack, or Coulson, or Bobbi, or Daisy or other field agents on her team, who had been trained to conceal their pain. When she felt pain, she showed it.

“Having fun yet?” Jefferson shot her an overly sweet smile, one that almost made Jemma squirm. She made a mental note to look into his medical history after she got out of there.

“Go. To. Hell,” she panted out, trying not to writhe too much; she knew it would only open her wounds further. He flashed a toothy grin.

“Have it your way.”

He proceeded to life her shirt just enough to reveal her midriff. Jemma gulped, desperately endeavouring not to whimper. She managed to keep herself from whimpering, but at the cost of wailing in pain as Jefferson began to carve shapes onto her bare skin with his scalpel.

Jemma continued to cry out in agony as he gently guided the edge along her tummy.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

She thought it would never end, but she was proven wrong when Mace’s authoritive voice sliced the air like a knife through butter.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Jefferson immediately pulled back and Hart dropped her on the ground, leaving her gasping pain. Mace knelt down next to her.

“Ready to help?”

“I’ll,” Jemma swallowed, “I’ll _never_ help you with your _sick_ project, or whatever you call that-that _disgrace_!”

“Oh, it’s hardly a disgrace,” Mace disagreed, standing up to pace. “On the contrary, it’s _exactly_ what this world needs – a prison that feels like home. A place for the worst of the worst criminals. What’s punishment more than a place that looks like home, but isn’t home?” Mace bent down again, “I’m doing the world a favour. You’d be wise to do the same.”

“I want to throw up,” Jemma whispered, feeling her stomach churn. While his motives may have been good, he had _no_ right to open up such a dark place. He had _no_ right put so many people at risk. He had _no_ right to decide who did and didn’t go to that place. He had absolutely _no_ right to send people to their almost inevitable deaths.

She flinched when Mace reached out and stroked her hair gently, “I understand. It’s a lot to take in-”

“No,” Jemma deadpanned, jerking away and then having to blink back tears from the sudden surge of pain. “Don’t.”

Despite his frown, Mace honoured her request, “Come on, Jemma. Help me out.”

She tensed at the use of her first name. She _really_ wanted to be sick. This wasn’t right; _all_ of this was wrong. She fought back the bile and looked at him in the eye.

“I’ll _never_ help you!” she declared. Even in her weak state, her words were strong.

“I thought you might say that,” Mace mused. “Which is why I’ve got fifteen bombs planted around the base. If you decide that you’re not going to help, this place goes boom, everyone dies, Fitz, Coulson and Reyes never get back.”

Jemma’s eyes went wide. That son of a _bitch_! She then narrowed her eyes.

“You’re just as bad as Ward was,” she spat. Mace merely let out a chuckle and shook his head a few times.

“Actually, he was the nice one,” he go up and started to leave, followed by Hart and Jefferson, “I’ll give you three minutes to decide.”


	8. The Tank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma has a long fight ahead of her, and May and Mack decide to play Superheroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning:** needles, substance abuse, mentions of torture, violence

3 minutes.

180 seconds.

It felt like a lifetime to Jemma. She felt scared, and everything hurt. She wanted Fitz. Just _having_ him here with her would make it more bearable. But he wasn’t.

She was alone.

And she had to make her decision quickly. But she already knew what it was. There were people as young as nineteen here; she refused to risk them. Even if it meant that she had to surrender to whatever _sick_ project Mace was working on.

* * *

 

“You two had better have a _damn_ good explanation to why you began dissecting Simmons,” Mace growled, slamming his travel mug down on his desk. Jefferson stood slightly hunched with his head down, like a child who was being scolded. Hart, however, was far more confident and so stepped forward to answer their boss.

“We were merely attempting to find out the names of who she was working with,” he explained. “And you better than anyone know that Simmons is not exactly known to bend over backwards for just anyone.”

“Be that as it may, you do _not_ start torturing one without my permission,” Mace bellowed, jabbing his index finger at Hart, towering over the lower-ranking man. Hart knew how far he could push the director, and knew that at this moment his toe was right on the line. He backed down, taking on a similar stance to Jefferson.

“Yes, sir.”

Mace turned his back and took a few deep breaths. Losing his temper would not help the situation at all (not to mention it would raise quite a few questions from those employees near the office). He waited until he was calm enough to address his agents without losing it.

“Good. Hart, you’re with me. Jefferson, get the equipment ready.”

“But sir, what about who she’s working with?” Hart inquired.

“May and Mack,” he rolled his eyes at their blank looks, “they’re Coulson’s dream team. Of course they’ll be working together. Jefferson, find May and Mack, _discreetly_. I don’t need people asking questions.”

“But sir, what of the set up?” Mace waved his hand and headed out the door with his travel mug.

“We have other agents with us. Get one of them to do it.”

* * *

 

Jemma sighed quietly as she heard the door slide open and Mace enter. She was tired and sore and wanted to go home, but she knew that the fight was far from over; she had to keep going. If not for herself, then for Fitz, for May, for Coulson, for the people SHIELD had been protecting for years.

They’d never forgive her if she gave up now.

She let out a whimper as Hart hauled her roughly to her feet, jostling her wounds. She met Mace’s gaze, and immediately wanted to throw up. He looked so… _calm_ about this whole situation and the thought made her blood boil. He sipped from his travel mug.

“Have you decided to help?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She was tired and weak, but that didn’t mean her words had to be. Mace offered her an overly sweet smile.

“I’m so glad you’ve come to your senses. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Soon after May and Mack had entered the passageway, they decided they were no good to Coulson, Fitz, Robbie or Jemma from outside. But they also knew they couldn’t just waltz back in there; Mace was probably already looking for them.

So, they’d made themselves comfortable (well, as comfortable as they could) in the narrow passageway and started to think. They _could_ simply sneak around, or stick to crowded areas (Mace wouldn’t _dare_ pull them from a group for fear of revealing whatever he was up to), but those options were risky.

They needed to know exactly how many agents were looking for them. If their assumption of Mace keeping the search under the radar, then it couldn’t be more than five agents. They could surely take on five agents if necessary.

“May, we can’t just barge in there without a plan!” Mack hissed. May rolled her eyes, checking her pistol.

“I do have a plan. Attack.”

“So you’re Captain America now?”

“I’ve always been cap.” Her comment is accompanied by the smallest of smiles, earning her an eye roll from Mack, although she can see a hint of a smile on his face. Mack then relented, and the two of them crept back up the passageway and into the base.

It was time to save their team.

* * *

 

Jemma’s hands were released on the condition that she didn’t fight back. She agreed to his terms, honestly not knowing if she had the energy to fight back. It was an honest relief to finally be able to move her arms again. They felt stiff from being held behind her for such a time, and when she glanced down at her wrists, they were red from being bound so tightly.

The room she was in was under the base. She recognised it as the sub-level where Coulson had once stored classified documents, before SHIELD had fallen. Now, it had been transformed into a sterile room with bright lights and people in lab coats. It all reminded Jemma of a hospital room.

Well, except for the giant tank in the centre of the room.

Before she had a chance to ask what it was all for, she was marched over to a chair and sat down, where two people in coats patched her up. She wasn’t sure if they were SHIELD agents or not, but either way, the thought of so many people working with Mace made her feel uneasy.

 _Very_ uneasy.

After she was patched up, Mace waltzed over and grabbed her arm, twisting it down onto the table. She instinctively tried to pull away, especially when Mace clicked his fingers and a male assistant came over and rolled her sleeve up, rubbing a cotton bud on her elbow. She looked up at Mace, trying to hide her fear.

“What are you doing?”

“Relax, this will only hurt a little,” Mace assured her. Still, Jemma struggled against him. There was no way in hell that she was letting him inject her, especially with an unknown substance.

“Miss Simmons, I urge you to relax,” the male assistant said calmly from the other side of the table. “He’ll only be injecting you with a cognitive enhancer. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

At the words ‘cognitive enhancer’, all the puzzle pieces seemed to come together like magic, although Jemma didn’t want to believe it. But it made sense, since everything else was very Stranger Things. Looking into his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

He was making her into an Eleven.

Finding energy in her, she fought back. She _refused_ to let him give her powers in order that he get what he wanted. Her stubborn attempts were short lived, however, when Mace dug his thumb painfully into the space between her ulna and radius, causing her to cry out in pain and stop fighting. She turned her gaze back to him. She saw nothing but pure malice in his expression as he alleviated the pressure from the sensitive spot, but still kept a firm grip on her wrist.

“Good girl,” he murmured softly. The patronisation struck a nerve inside Jemma and she was tempted to fight back, but the threat of a painful thumb in her wrist made her bite back her anger.

She drew in a shaky breath as the needle was pushed in and she felt the chemicals almost immediately start to take effect. Her body felt incredibly heavy and then like it was floating. Her lungs burned as she gasped for air. She felt woozy and the world around her was distant, like she was in a bubble.

“Just breathe, Jemma.” Mace’s voice sounded echo-ey, and she doesn’t remember anything after that.

* * *

 

May and Mack snuck through the base, making sure to stay out of sight. They didn’t know who was in on it with mace, but they refused to risk it.

May suddenly pushed Mack back against the wall and held her finger to her lips. Mack took that as one thing: someone who was clearly working with mace was right around the corner. Through a series of silent glances, they agreed to interrogate the bastard so they could at least know what they were up again.

A moment later, Agent Jefferson rounded the corner, his eyes widening when he came face to face with May, who again held her finger to her lips. Then she punched him. Hard.

He fell to the ground, unconscious. Mack stepped from the shadows and scooped Jefferson up like he was a sack of potatoes.

“Where to, May?” Mack asked, falling into step behind her.

“Back to the boiler room.”

* * *

 

When Jemma regained consciousness, she found herself strapped to a table. Then she heard beeping, sounding eerily similar to a heart monitor. The beeps were getting faster, and Jemma flinched when a tender hand was placed on her arm. She looked over and saw a female assistant standing next to the table with a kind look on her face.

“It’s okay, Miss Simmons,” she soothed. “We’re just running a few tests. You’re okay. Just try to relax.”

Jemma ‘s brain rapidly processed the information, and she quickly realised there was nothing she could do about her current predicament. She decided it was best to take the lady’s advice and just try to relax until she _could_ do something. She took a few deep breaths and heard the beeping slow down, and she then noticed that she wasn’t feeling any pain.

“What…what did you give me?” she asked weakly. The last thing she remembered was being in pain, so why couldn’t she feel any now?

“A mix of Modafinil, Acetyl-L-Carnitine and a bunch of other things I can’t pronounce,” Mace said, appearing next to Jemma. Before she had a chance to react, one of the male assistants spoke.

“All done. Miss Simmons is good to go.”

Jemma’s bindings were released and she shot up, fully intending to hurt Mace, but he stepped backwards and flashed his phone screen at her.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he tutted. “Remember what happens if you step out of line.”

Jemma reluctantly complied and stood down.

“You might want to take your shoes and jacket off,” Mace advised, although his tone suggested that it was an order. Jemma sighed and removed her shoes, socks and jacket. The director then motioned over to the tank. Jemma glanced at the phone and then walked over, where she was fitted with a scuba helmet and helped onto the platform.

“Your job is to find the nest of the monster,” Mace told her before the platform started to lower.

Wait, what? Find the nest of the monster? Jemma tried to protest and climb back out of the tank, but it was too late. She was already submerged and the tank was sealed shut. Mace took once last opportunity to show her the phone from the other side of the glass and then slid the black covering over.

She was in complete darkness. She could feel the water under her feet, but she didn’t feel wet or cold or anything. She felt oddly normal, and the floor felt oddly smooth. She was in a sensory deprivation tank, she realised. But even though she realised it, she couldn’t pull herself from whatever place she was in. So, she decided to simply do as Mace demanded and find the Demogorgon’s nest.

She wandered around, not really sure of which way she was going. She didn’t know how much time had passed before she happened across a ring of eggs, which were about half her size.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, slowly pacing around them. They were all unhatched, but by the faint silhouettes of whatever was inside pressed against the shell, Jemma thought it must be almost time. Around her, a room started to form, although she didn’t notice it until she looked up from the eggs and around.

She was inside Mace’s bunk. She recognised it as his from the slippers at the end of the bed. She gasped, but dare not say it out loud, she dared not even think it, for fear that Mace might find out where the nesting ground was. She didn’t know why she was so reluctant to give up the location to Mace, but her gut told her to keep it a secret for a little longer.

It was then that she heard a growl; the same one she’d heard during her talk with Fitz. Her heart leapt into her throat and she spun around, coming face to face with a _very_ angry-looking Demogorgon.

She screamed and ran.

Jemma thumped on the glass, managing to slip out of the darkness and back into the tank. The platform was pulled up and out of the tank and she shivered as the cool air hit her soaking form. She breathed deeply, severely shaken up by what she just experienced. It had all been so real, so terrifying and-

“Where’s the nesting ground?” Mace’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, grounding her. She reminded herself where she was, what had happened and what she was doing, and especially that there was no way that she was giving up the location of that nest.

“I don’t know,” she fibbed. “All I saw were the eggs.”

Mace studied her face, “She’s lying. Grab her.”

The assistants did as they were told, and one of them produced a needle which he stuck into the side of her neck, despite her protests. She stilled, whimpering when she felt the pain from the torture again, this time worse due to the salty water she’d been submerged in.

“Now, where’s that nest?” Mace repeated, standing over her. She took a few deep breaths and looked him in the eye.

“I’ll never tell you.”


	9. 011

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fight ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning:** blood, mentions of torture, violence, vomit, death

“Fitz! Fitz, wake up!”

Fitz rolled over and came face to face with a very panicked-looking Robbie.

“What time’s it?” Fitz murmured wearily.

“Time to run! Demogorgon’s coming!”

As soon as the words had been processed by Fitz, he jumped up and ran with Coulson and Robbie. They scampered quietly through the base, using the monster’s roar to determine where it was.

“That thing sounds more agitated than usual,” Coulson noted, leading them past the lab. “I wonder what ruffled its feathers the wrong way.”

“Maybe this?” Fitz piped up, motioning to the inside of Mace’s bunk. There, in the centre of the room sat six eggs in a circle. “Perhaps they discovered where the monster’s nest was.”

Coulson nodded at Robbie and Robbie nodded back before changing forms and frying each egg. Fitz was horrified and glanced over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing? You do _not_ just mess with a monster’s offspring like that!”

“Have to, Fitz,” Coulson said, pulling out a big gun from behind Mace’s door. “If we allow those things to hatch, we have seven Demogorgons to destroy. Personally, I’d prefer to just have one to destroy.”

“But its rage-”

“That’s why I’ve got this,” Coulson interrupted, showing off the big gun. “Modification of the 084 we picked up in Colombia a few years back. Reduces just about anything to nothing more than a scrap.”

Fitz had nothing to say in return. He just hoped Robbie could destroy all the eggs before the Demogorgon got to them. Which was only about forty seconds away, at the maximum. He shook his hand rapidly.

“Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered, glancing back between the hallway and Robbie.

Fitz’s eyes went wide as the monster rounded the corner, gnashing its teeth at them. He glanced back to Robbie, just finishing up the last egg.

“Done!” he shouted. The Demogorgon was only ten feet away now. Coulson blasted it, throwing it back against the wall, but not destroying it.

“Uh oh.”

The three exchanged a look and then took off running.

* * *

 

 “Where they holding Simmons?”

“I’ll never talk.”

“Tougher than he looks,” Mack commented to may, circling their prisoner’s chair.

“Not that tough,” May threatened coolly. “I’ll be that he’d give up everything he knew in a heartbeat.”

“I would not!” Jefferson protested, but neither May nor Mack missed the way he squirmed slightly in his chair. “I am a devoted SHIELD agent and I do not give up infor-”

He was cut off by May lunging at him, forcing his chin up and holding a blade to his throat.

“Care to rephrase that?”

“They’ve got her in the sublevel where classified materials were once stored and once they’re done she’ll be back in the containment cell,” he blubbered out, looking as if he were about to cry. “P-Please don’t hurt me!”

“Pathetic,” May sneered and then gave him a good knock on the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. She then headed for the door, and Mack fell in behind her.

“Sublevel or containment?”

“Containment.”

* * *

 

Jemma’s breathing was laboured as she was thrown onto the floor of the containment cell. Her small frame rocked backwards and forwards with an overstimulation from the amphetamines injected into her system. Whatever pain she’d felt from the initial torture, she now felt five-fold.

Not to mention it was quite chilly. She was probably going to catch a nasty cold from her sodden clothes.

She shivered dreadfully, unable to even use her hands to keep herself warm – they’d been bound behind her back again as soon as she’d given up the location of the nest. She knew she’d survived what most people couldn’t even fathom, but she simply wasn’t sure, even after all that, if her body was strong enough to survive this.

Jemma arched her neck outwards and threw up. She groaned miserably, especially when she blood mixed in with her bile. It was almost ironic, really. The girl who had beaten Death was to be taken out by a few measly chemicals.

It was just as depressing as it was ironic.

She sighed when she heard the doors open again.

_What do they want this time?_

She braced herself to be forced to her feet, but it never came. Instead, a gentle hand was placed on her arm, followed by a soft ‘oh my god’ from someone who sounded an awful lot like May.

Jemma rolled over and saw May and Mack kneeling next to her, look both concerned and angry. She managed a weak smile.

“May, there’s blood in this vomit.” Jemma saw May’s eyes turn dark.

“What the hell did they do to you?” May questioned softly. Jemma rolled over again to throw up again.

“Lots,” she whispered sadly. She felt her zip ties being cut and May tenderly helping her up.

“Can you walk?” Jemma nodded, swallowing.

“They gave me lots of amphetamines, I should be able to get to the hospital.”

May nodded, motioning for Mack to help. The three of them had taken two steps before a pounding on the wall stopped them. Jemma’s heart took flight. It was Fitz! She couldn’t see him yet, but she knew it was him. Turning around, their suspicions were confirmed: Fitz, Coulson and Robbie were all standing there, behind a wall of red, pounding on it and begging for help.

Jemma acted first, grabbing Mack’s shotgun axe off him, and swinging it at the wall. The red substance cracked, so she swung again and again. Seven times she swung until she’d created a hole big enough for the boys to crawl through. May and Mack helped pull them through.

“Come on! It’s coming! We have to run!” Coulson urged. The six of them rushed for the door as the Demogorgon crawled through the wall.

“Go! Go! GO!” Coulson shouted, ushering his team through. Jemma was about to step through when she stopped and turned. The monster towered above her, its ugly flower-shaped mouth open wide. Logically, she should be afraid, hell she _had_ been afraid in her first encounter. But now, she felt oddly fearless.

The monster would likely gobble her and her friends up if she didn’t get a move on. But some raw, primal instinct inside of her told her that she couldn’t just walk away; that she had to face it. She turned back to the group.

“Mace has fifteen bombs around this place which he’ll set off as soon as he finds a way to the nest. You need to diffuse the bombs.”

With that, she closed and locked the door behind her, making sure that they couldn’t open it to stop her. Behind her, she heard Fitz bang on the glass.

“Jemma! No!” It broke her heart to hear Fitz begging her to stop, but she couldn’t. She slowly walked towards the monster, slamming it up against the wall with her mind.

She didn’t stop to think that this was illogical; that she shouldn’t be able to move a seven foot beast with her mind. That even telekinetic inhumans wouldn’t be strong enough to move such a big thing, that it would require massive amounts of mental energy.

Jemma didn’t think of any of that. She only thought of her desire to kill the monster. She raised a hand in line with the Demogorgon’s heart and cast one look back at Fitz. She knew that she would probably not make it through this alive, and Fitz’s expression told her that he knew, too.

“I love you, Fitz,” she whispered. She could see him read her lips and then repeat the words back to her along with a plea not to do this.

She turned away, unable to look at him any longer. Tears burned her eyes as she sent power through her hand directly into the monster’s chest. She could feel its heart being crushed slowly and painfully.

All around her, a leafy could swirled as the monster slowly fell to pieces. Jemma felt her world getting distant. She felt like she was floating as the Demogorgon took its last breath and exploded into an array of dark fragments.

Jemma dropped to her knees and then her tummy with a small smile. She could see Fitz, kissing her and cuddling her, her father picking her up and swinging her around, her mother giving her a kiss and saying how proud she was, Daisy, May, Coulson, Bobbi, Mack, Trip, Lincoln, Elena, Joey, her grandmother…she saw all the people she cared about, smiling with her.

She felt accomplished, triumphant. In her mind, she could hear her late grandmother’s voice.

_You’ve done well, my dear, Jemma. Sleep now – you’ve earned it._

* * *

 

The cloud cleared and Fitz could see Jemma lying on the ground, unmoving. He was relieved to see she hadn’t disappeared like Eleven, but that relief quickly vanished as he realised he couldn’t even see her back moving up and down.

She wasn’t breathing.

He yelled at someone to open the door, which it did a minute later and he rushed in. Kneeling beside his partner, his _girlfriend_ , he rolled her over and checked her pulse. His heart skipped a beat and he began to panic when he couldn’t find it.

“She’s got no pulse! She’s not breathing!” he babbled. The others acted immediately. Mack scooped Jemma up and carried her out, and Robbie helped Fitz to his feet, leading him along behind Mack. Fitz desperately tried to get his thoughts in order. He was no good to her if he was freaking out.

As he walked, he took a few deep breaths and processed what had happened. Then he thought through how to counter the problem. The first thing that came to mind were Radcliffe’s new defibrillators, with a new kind of battery that made them exempt from EMP attacks. He would use those.

The group bustled into the lab and May barked at everyone to clear out, except for Piper who was tasked with collecting the defibrillators, which Fitz told her were the ones up in the far left cabinet. Mack lay Jemma down on the table and Fitz grabbed onto the defibrillators Piper handed him and delivered the first shock.

Nothing happened.

He tried again. Nothing.

“Come on, Jemma,” he begged through gritted teeth. “You have to come back to me.”

He held his breath as he delivered the final shock and let it out when Jemma immediately coughed and opened her eyes. A sigh of relief rippled through the whole group and Fitz pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Oh, Jemma, I’m so glad you’re alright.” He felt her nod against his shoulder and it only took a few seconds to realise that she was crying. He pulled back just enough to see her face.

“What’s wrong, Jemma?” he asked, touching her cheek softly.

“He hurt me, Fitz.” It was only then that Fitz spotted the re-opened cut along the side of her face and her blood nose, collarbone and the blood seeping through the lower half of her t-shirt. He gingerly lifted the hem up to check the wound.

_011_

Fitz wanted to throw up. Not only had they _carved_ a _number_ into his girlfriend, there had obviously been _ten_ others before her. His blood boiled and he wanted to _kill_ Mace and everyone else working with him.

“That bloody _bastard_ ,” Fitz spat. Robbie gently pulled him away so that May could bandage Jemma up. Robbie squeezed Fitz’s shoulders gently and offered him an assurance that it was going to be alright; that justice would be done.

As soon as May moved away from bandaging Jemma up, Fitz rushed forward, grabbing onto her hand and pulling it close to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Jemma,” he murmured. “I would have stopped him, I would have, I-”

“I know, Fitz,” she replied weakly. “But you were stuck somewhere else. I don’t blame you, Fitz. I blame him.”

Fitz smiled softly at her, giving her hand a tender squeeze, “Is there anything I can do now?”

“I would appreciate a kiss from my boyfriend,” she answered, but then held up her hand when he leaned in. “But he’s incredibly slimy and gross right now.”

A mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes and a playful smile graced his lips.

“Do you think you could brave it? After all, I’ve wanted to kiss you as much as you’ve wanted to kiss me.”

Jemma giggled quietly and grinned broadly up at him, causing his own to grow even bigger. He liked that he knew his comment would get a smile from her.

“I’ll do my best to power through.”


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is exactly what they need after a hellish two months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like your patience has paid off. Enjoy the Fitzsimmons fluff :)

**_3 weeks later…_ **

Coulson had seen to it that Mace got a fair trial. In that trial, the team had not only discovered that he was Ward’s cousin (which explained _a lot_ , Jemma thought), but also that there had indeed been ten victims before Jemma, most of them being children. Jemma had almost thrown up again, but Fitz’s hand had managed to coax it back down.

It had been the unanimous decision to send Mace, and everyone else who had worked on the project, to the Fridge.

SHIELD had then destroyed the portal, so that no one could go through ever again.

Jemma had been put through oodles of testing to find out exactly what had been pumped into her system, and then prescribed medication, which she had been taking faithfully. The chemicals that had given her telekinetic abilities still hadn’t quite worn off, as they had all discovered when she’d almost accidentally broken Fitz’s arms after he’d playfully tried to scare her.

But they weren’t as strong as they had been, so Jemma saw that as a positive thing; that they _were_ being slowly flushed out.

Her wounds had also mostly healed up, although she knew there would be definite scars. Coulson had offered to but her the new drug that removed scars, but she refused. She was sick of being injected with drugs. Besides, she wanted the scars to be there to always remind her of what she had survived.

And Fitz couldn’t be prouder of her. Speaking of, where was she?

She was _supposed_ to meet him in the range to test out the new gun, but she’d not shown up. He poked his nose into every room he passed, looking for her and asked anyone if they’d seen her. He had so far been hit with a unanimous ‘no’.

Perhaps she was in her bunk. These past two months had been especially exhausting for her.

He spun on his heel and headed for the bunks. His brow furrowed as he passed a very frazzled-looking Piper, hurriedly making her way towards the lab. He continued to follow her with his eyes as they passed. What had gotten into her? Last he’d seen her; she’d been as calm as anything.

It was then that he saw May’s bunk open. What had that woman said to Piper to get her so frazzled? Only one way to find out, really, he decided.

“Hey, May,” he greeted, stopping at her bunk. She acknowledged him with a nod and the closest she’d ever come to a friendly smile. “Hey, uh, I just saw Piper coming from here, and she looks quite frazzled.”

May’s lips twitched upwards, making Fitz extremely suspicious. He stepped into May’s bunk.

“May, what did you do to that poor woman?”

“Nothing she didn’t want,” May answered, folding a blanket and placing it on the end of the bed. It took Fitz a full fifteen seconds to figure out what may meant, and when he did, he covered his ears, groaning.

“Ugh, gross, May! My poor ears!”

“You asked,” she retorted, still smiling. Fitz rolled his eyes.

“You seen Simmons?” May shook her head, and Fitz took that as his cue to leave. On the way out, he bumped into Robbie. “Oh, sorry.”

“Nah, it’s my fault,” Robbie apologised. “I was, uh, actually just looking for you.”

“Yeah?” Fitz’s eyebrows shot up. Robbie nodded. Fitz motioned for him to step into his bunk. “What’s up?”

“I, um, wanted to apologise for being such an ass in the Upside Down.” Robbie looked down at the floor, and Fitz placed his hand on Robbie’s shoulder.

“Hey, no, I get it, we were trapped in an unfamiliar place, you were freaking out and-”

“No,” Robbie interrupted, looking up again. “That’s, uh, not the reason I was such a jerk.”

Fitz was a bit taken aback, “Then what was the reason?”

“Irmmmpghylmmkypgh,” Robbie mumbled out. Fitz began to worry. Robbie was never like this; he never mumbled. There must be something wrong if he was mumbling.

“What was that, Robbie? Is everything okay?”

“I really like you, okay?” Robbie blurted out. Fitz almost stumbled back in surprise. “And so I was a jerk to try and get your attention.”

Fitz blinked a couple of times, not sure how to take the news, “Well, uh…”

_How do I respond to something like that???_

“And I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Robbie continued, saving Fitz from having to think of something to respond with. “I shouldn’t have approached, well, you know,” he gestured vaguely with his arms, “like that.”

Fitz didn’t know how to respond, especially not when Robbie leaned in and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before scurrying out. Fitz stood there, dumbfounded by what just happened.

Once he’d managed to process, he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay, well, that happened.”

He ducked his head, fighting off a blush. He was honestly flattered that Robbie would have a crush on him, and couldn’t completely deny that Robbie _was_ quite handsome and kind. After all, Robbie had been the one to set him down for a sleep, and comfort him when May was bandaging Jemma up.

Robbie Reyes wasn’t all bad, Fitz decided, leaving the room with a slight bounce in his step.

Fitz found Jemma a short time later in the lab, deeply engaged in a book.

“There you are, Jemma!” She looked up and smiled at him.

“Hey, Fitz. Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah. I wanted to, uh…” he trailed off. Why _had_ he come looking for Jemma again? He thought back to where he had come from.

“Ah, yes! We were supposed to be testing the new gun out!”

Jemma glanced up the clock and giggled, “Oh, yes, we were, weren’t we? Sorry, I got a bit carried away in my book.”

“I can see that.” He smiled at her as she stood up. She looked so beautiful, and Fitz had to bite his lip.

Why was he getting so turned on by everyone right now?

As if reading his mind, Jemma closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around her waist. Their foreheads were touching and they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you,” Jemma whispered. “For saving my life.”

“And I never had the chance to properly thank you for pulling me out of that wretched place,” Fitz shot back softly. Jemma smiled that adorable little smile of hers, the one that said that she was utterly in love with Fitz without actually having to say the words.

Their lips met. The kiss was soft and passionate at the same time. It was just what they’d needed after these hellish two months. Fitz hoisted her up onto the desk, with Jemma pushing the book aside. Jemma ran her hands up Fitz’s back into his hair as the kiss deepened.

That’s when the door opened, interrupting them. Fitz pulled back, feeling more than annoyed. He rolled his eyes when he saw that their interrupter was Coulson.

“Hey guys, we’re about to start our group binge of ‘Stranger Things’. Wanna join us?”

Coulson had to duck as a book flew at his head. He stood up straight and playfully held his hands up in surrender.

“Woah, no need to get violent.” He grinned at them and then ducked out, leaving them to their own devices.

“Bloody hate it when that happens,” Fitz grumbled. Jemma batted him on the upside of his head.

“Fitz! Watch your language.” Fitz smirked playfully at her.

“Or what, Simmons? You’ll send me to time out?” Jemma flashed him a wicked grin.

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” she purred. Fitz’s smirk grew bigger.

Yes, this is _exactly_ what they needed after these hellish two months.


End file.
